The Old Fisher Burial Ground

There's always music playing near the fountains
 And I don't think I've ever seen the band
 The people, they walk briskly through the courtyard
 With their kids and plastic bags in either hand
 All this waiting
 And no one is calling out
 The sound of footsteps
 Makes room tones fade and drown
 There are speakers on a pole in every corner
 The wires go unchecked for days and days
 Dry leaves gather at bases of buildings
 What will become of here when wires fray, when wires fray
 All this waiting
 And no one is calling out
 The sound of footsteps
 Makes room tones fade and drown
 Like reveille at dawn to me
 The floor is shaking
 All this waiting
 And no one is calling out
 Seven stones, they stand on city limits
 With their backs to the town
 No one knows the story, it's how they'd want it
 It's how they wanted to be found
 No escape, no relationship
 No escape and only one to miss
 There's the Fisher plot off highway 22
 It overlooks the road from raised ground
 Seven stones, they stand on city limits
 With their backs to the town
 No one knows the story, it's how they'd want it
 It's how they wanted to be found
 No escape
 No relationship
 I know I'm small-time
 I know this city's mind
 I've seen some places
 So what I take and what I leave are one the same
 One and the same
 They're nothing